


Collision

by TheMouthKing, thisiscyrene



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Bottom Link, Dirty Talk, First Time, M/M, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Top Rhett, light come play, you fucking heard me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 13:05:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMouthKing/pseuds/TheMouthKing, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiscyrene/pseuds/thisiscyrene
Summary: The conclusion toObsecrationandThe Other Side of The Wall.





	Collision

**Author's Note:**

> This is so filthy. Mind the tags. You've been warned.

Silence, and Rhett’s beginning to panic. He shouldn’t have said he’d heard him, because of course Link’s not gonna come to the door now. 

But he’s got to. 

Though the details had been muffled, too much of it lost in the drywall and thin insulation that had kept them apart, the wall had done little to mute the wild heights of Link’s desperation. Enough made it through loud if not clear that Rhett had heard him begging to be fucked and moaning, screaming his name. 

He knocks again, still softly but now frantic, desperate to be let in. Link can’t leave him out here in the hall and act like he doesn’t know he’s at the door. Rhett knows damned well Link’s not sleeping, not when he’d just loudly finished less than two minutes ago. Unless… shit, maybe he’s sleeping. Rhett knows all too well how Link can fall asleep at the drop of a hat, and he can only imagine that, _after._

In fact, he can imagine a hell of a lot about after... and during, and before. 

_“Link,”_ he raises his voice a bit, nose pressed in close against the crack in the door, willing Link to hear him with every fiber of his being. “You gotta let me in, man… I need to talk to you.”

Link freezes on the bed, fucked out and head swimming, as he tries to decide how best to mitigate the incoming damage.

Rhett won’t go away, that much is clear from the desperate tone of his voice, so with a groan Link rolls over and off of the bed. His eyes scan the room for something to make himself decent, but with Rhett’s knocking and insistent calls coming at him from the door and the post orgasmic haze clouding his brain, he can’t manage to find where he’d left his pajamas.

He snatches the towel off of the bed, where he’d previously laid the toy and lube, both having been abandoned among the tangle of sheets. Wrapping the towel around his middle, he wobbles towards the door where he can just see the shadows of Rhett’s feet moving agitatedly from the crack beneath it.

Link can feel the lube slowly working its way out of him, sliding down the cleft of his ass, smearing between his thighs as he makes his way to the door. He pauses, still unsure how to handle the situation. Another knock makes him jump. With a shaky hand he pulls open the door, just enough to catch a glimpse of Rhett’s wild eyes peering at him through the crack. 

Rhett’s standing there, shoulders hunched over, hands stuffed into his pockets, trying to change the shape of the front of his sweats so the tenting is less obvious, but he’s not sure how effective it is. He looks so much smaller than his six foot seven in that moment, like he’s trying to curl into himself as the door opens. 

Rhett’s eyes flick down and back up, eagerly taking in as much of Link as he can. He’s in a towel, like he’d just gotten out of the shower, only he’s not wet. If Rhett’s searching for confirmation that what he’d heard had actually happened, he’s finding it in the sliver of Link’s disheveled appearance that he can see. 

“I left my key in my room,” he blurts out, like that’s the most important thing he has to say in that moment. It’s the only thing he can think of _to_ say, his mind utterly blank as he stands there, heart practically beating out of his chest. He keeps glancing away, down. It’s hard to hold eye contact right now; he’s embarrassed, cheeks ruddy, so aware of how hard he is in his sweats. Of what Link had been doing just moments before, nothing about the way he looks now suggesting anything otherwise. 

Rhett’s lips are so dry they’re sticking together and he wets them with a flick of his tongue, but it does nothing for the state of his mouth, so parched that trying to talk feels clumsy and impossible. 

Finally, Rhett manages, “...can I come in?”

Link stares dumbly through the crack in the door, immobile as he processes Rhett’s request. His first thought is that there’s no way he’s letting Rhett inside. Even if Rhett had heard him, he doesn’t want him seeing the mess left on the bed. The fact that he’d answered the door wearing nothing but a towel is only just dawning on him and he shifts uncomfortably, feeling exposed beneath the intensity of Rhett’s gaze. He feels Rhett place his hand against the door, not enough pressure to push it open, but the intention is clear. 

Link isn’t _saying anything_ and it’s going to goddamn kill him. The hand on the door starts to push and he follows it with his shoulder, leaning his way into the room despite the lack of invitation. 

“Rhett, wait!” Link’s frantic, leans into the other side of the door to keep Rhett from shouldering his way in, and Rhett stops for a second, brows knit together. 

_“Link.”_ Rhett says that single word, his name, in desperation. It comes like a plea to reconsider.

“--just go on down to the desk and get another key.” Link’s voice sounds strange and foreign, detached from his body somehow, maybe. 

Link’s making it clear as crystal that he doesn’t want Rhett in his room right now, but Rhett has to come in. He _has_ to. This feels inevitable, facing this, dealing with it, talking about it, whatever’s going to happen next is something they’ve been careening towards for years. Maybe Link being less than subtle lately -- really dang obvious tonight -- is a cry for help, a way to push this without saying anything directly. Now, he doesn’t have to, feels like the cards are on the table whether they want them to be or not. Rhett’s not exactly subtle himself now, either, blushing and hard in his sweatpants. 

And he’s not taking no for an answer, puts his body in the gap in the doorway so there’s no pushing him back out into the hall and then he’s in, standing back to the wall in Link’s room as the door clicks shut and for the first time tonight he’s got a glimpse at the aftermath of what he’s always only ever just heard. 

“Rhett…” Link starts, aching to start in on damage control. But Rhett’s not listening, Link can see him looking around the room, eyes coming to rest on the hotel bed, rumpled sheets in disarray, his boxers crumpled up into a ball near the headboard. _So that’s where those went,_ Link thinks to himself.

Rhett’s quiet, and Link can sense him processing the situation they’ve gotten themselves into. The room smells unmistakably of sex, and Link realizes with a blush that he must smell like it too. He’s hyperaware of his own body now, his state of undress, the cooling sweat on his skin, the wetness between his legs.

Listening to it was one thing when Rhett was alone on his own side of the wall, letting his imagination go wild with _what ifs,_ but it was something totally different to be standing here staring down the proof of it. To be close enough to his best friend of thirty years that he could touch him, see the disarray of the bed, every last hint of doubt erased in the details, the discarded clothes, the sex hanging heavy in the air, clinging around Link’s body. 

Link steps in front of Rhett to block his line of sight from the bed, feebly trying to salvage some sense of dignity from the embarrassing mess he’s in.

“Rhett, I…” He starts and trails off again. He knows he has to say _something_ , Rhett’s silent judgement proving to be too much for his nerves. He takes a deep breath to steel himself before closing his eyes and asking in a near whisper, “What did you hear?”

Rhett’s silence isn’t born from judgment, he’s just overwhelmed. He doesn’t realize he’d been staring at the bed until Link moves into his line of sight, blocking it from view. It’d be easier if he was startled from his thoughts, if Link standing here in front of him demanding to know what he’d heard did anything to instill him with a sense of shame for the things he’s even now imagining, but it’s _not._ Not enough to stop him, anyway. 

Rhett wants to answer but he can’t figure out how. It feels like there’s no good way to describe what it was that he’d heard, but even if there was he doesn’t honestly think he’d be capable of repeating it. He hardly feels capable of saying anything at all, like it’d come out an awkward, jumbling, stuttered mess if he tried to. They’re standing on the edge of something here, something big. What he does next matters. He can tell that Link’s nervous, that he’s mortified and that the wait is killing him. But there’s more than that between them, there’s this heaviness that’s electric in the air like one wrong move is going to set them on fire. 

In some strange way, this feels overdue. But at the same time, now that it’s happening, that it’s _real_ , now that there standing here, both of them half naked in Link’s disarrayed hotel room, it feels terrifyingly too soon. 

In the end, Rhett doesn’t so much answer Link’s question as he does leap without looking, moving again too far into Link’s space for comfort. Rhett’s on him before he gives himself the chance to think better of it, hand finding a tentative hold at his shoulder, curled fingers nudging, tipping up his chin as he kisses him. He means to say he’d heard enough to let him know that he doesn’t think this is unwelcome, that while he’s maybe not _confident_ with the move (in truth, he’s terrified, heart beating wild in his chest) that this feels inevitable. 

Link is blindsided by the kiss, eyes flying open wide at the electrifying feeling of Rhett’s lips pressed to his own. Somewhere, distantly, his brain is telling him he needs to push Rhett away, to discuss this thing happening between them with some measure of rationality. Instead he leans into Rhett, eyes falling shut as Rhett moves in to deepen the kiss. 

The fact that Link hasn’t pushed him away gives Rhett this thrill, a rush, lets him know that this much is okay, that maybe more would be. That what Rhett had heard through the wall had actually happened. 

This is it. _This is real_. Link had fantasized about this scenario in so many ways and for so many years, and now that it’s happening, he almost doesn’t feel present. It’s like he’s having an out of body experience, watching a stranger use his body to kiss his best friend. What brings him back to reality is the solid, unmistakable feel of Rhett’s erection poking into his thigh as he pulls Link closer. 

This new piece of information hits Link square in the chest, and he gasps into the kiss. His legs feel shaky and his head is dizzy. Suddenly he’s aware of the very real possibility that he might faint, right there, clad in nothing but a towel, right into Rhett’s arms. He brings his hands to Rhett’s chest to steady himself, the warmth of Rhett’s bare skin helping to bring Link back to reality. 

Rhett pulls back from the kiss for a moment to breathe, Link needs it too, but he doesn’t go far. Stays close, pressed together nose and forehead, too close to even see him clearly as his hands move down Link’s strong arms, the bare skin of his torso, down to where the towel is wrapped tight around his hips. He starts moving them backwards towards the bed, herding Link along as he walks forward with a slow sway, edging further and further into Link’s space the more he lets him into it. 

Now, apparently, he’s decided he can answer Link’s question. 

“You want me to fuck you...” Rhett’s voice dips rough and low. His nose is still pressed to Link’s when he’s talking and, pulling back enough to be able to focus, he eyes the shorter man’s mouth before his attention flicks up, and he licks his lips and searches Link’s eyes for a reaction, for a response to what he’d said. It’s an admission of what he’d heard as much as it is asking permission.

And hearing the words coming out of Rhett’s mouth is unreal. With Rhett so close it’s almost like he can feel the words reverberating through his entire body, and he squirms as arousal once again begins to pool in his gut. He feels surrounded by everything Rhett, the warmth of him, the scent of his skin, his breath coming in hot puffs against his cheek.

Link swallows thickly and answers, “Yes,” the one-word admission is as much for himself as it is for Rhett. Suddenly it’s as if a huge weight has been lifted from him. He’d said yes and Rhett was still standing there, not horrified, not angry, not disgusted with him. “Yes,” he says it again, confident this time as he chances a look up and into Rhett’s waiting eyes. 

Hearing Link say yes confirms it all, everything he’s heard bleed through the walls between them tonight had happened, it was real. But there’d been other nights, too, where he’d heard plenty, where Link had clearly been getting off but the details hadn’t been so clear or obvious. 

A grin breaks out over Rhett’s face, one he can’t control. He’s just so elated to be right, that the risk paid off, that Link let him in, that he wants this. That they’re gonna fuck, _holy shit,_ and all Rhett can do right now is try and keep from laughing as he leans in to catch Link’s mouth in another kiss, but it’s contagious and he feels Link’s answering grin barely contained against his lips and it sparks him laughing, helpless to resist it. 

“Yeah?” Rhett’s eyes are sparkling with laughter and excitement as he catches Link’s eye, the shorter man nodding, but the heat in his gaze quells the rise of giddy laughter, twists hot in his gut. He moves in again, manages to kiss him again for real, hands heavy on his hips. He can feel the rough cotton of the towel against his fingertips and all he can think is how if what he’d heard was right, if what he’d imagined had happened, then Link had been in here fucking himself in that bed. Fucking himself and imagining it was Rhett, trying to convince himself that it was. He can hardly picture it, though he’s tried… how would he lay? What would he do, what would he use? 

Rhett doesn’t give himself a chance to think better of it, just pulls away from Link’s mouth again, this time murmuring, “Show me,” He punctuates it with another soft, beseeching kiss, and adds, almost begging, “...please. I wanna see what you were doing.” 

His fingertips tease along the edge of the towel, so close to tugging it away. 

Link grins into Rhett’s kisses, stepping up onto his tiptoes to meet his lips one final time before moving back. He can feel Rhett’s fingers fidgeting with the edge of the towel wrapped around his waist, the last barrier between them before they step together into a new layer of their friendship.

Link’s energized by Rhett’s reaction; Rhett’s laughter had always served as a boost to his confidence, and it comes as no surprise to him that it works the same even now. This is Rhett, _his_ Rhett. His best friend of more than three decades, there’s nobody on this earth he feels more confident in his own skin around. The realization comforts and emboldens him as he gives Rhett a toothy grin before a flick of his fingers allows the towel to drop to the floor between them.

Try as he might to keep focus on Link’s face, when the towel drops Rhett can’t help his gaze following down the lean line of his naked body. The fact that he’s seen him in various states of undress before doesn’t make this any less new or exciting because now he’s got permission to look, to drink him in without schooling his response. And he wants to do a hell of a lot more than just look.

He guides Rhett’s hands back to his hips as he steps backwards towards the bed, bringing Rhett with him. Link is more confident now though he’s still blushing, the rosy pink tinge to his skin clear on his face and neck, moving across his collarbones and down his chest, and Rhett finds it all maddeningly endearing. He guides them backwards until his calves bump up against the edge of the bed before stepping up on his tiptoes to whisper in Rhett’s ear “You wanna see what I’ve been doin’ to myself all these nights? Right next door to you, Rhett?”

Rhett’s fingertips are playing along the hard line of Link’s hips, tracing down towards his thigh and back up simply because he can, but it all stops absolutely dead in its tracks when Link raises himself up and asks him _that_. 

Knowing doesn’t make hearing it hit any less hard, Link admitting out loud that he touches himself every time they stay in a hotel, in the room right next door to him. Hearing that he’s done it every time thinking of him the way he’d done tonight is almost too much to bear. 

Rhett nods, nuzzles in briefly against Link’s neck, beard tickling his skin. His hands dare their way around his body from his hips, smooth past the small of his back and tease at the top of his ass. If only they slid lower, he’d get a preview of the show to come in the still slick lube leaking from between his cheeks, but he doesn’t. He’s he’s asking for more, he’s waiting, he’s being good. Lips and beard drag down the line of Link’s neck and he murmurs, voice tight, “Please…”

Link sinks backwards onto the bed and Rhett moves to follow him down, but Link stops him with a hand on his belly and a sly “Oh no. You’re gonna stand right there and watch me.”

Link slides his hands down his own chest, lingering to brush the pads of his fingers across his nipples as he looks Rhett in the eye, waggling his eyebrows and biting his bottom lip. Rhett snorts at Link’s horrible porn star impersonation but as he drinks in the sight of his best friend’s long and lean body against the white sheets he’s nearly gutted with how beautiful he is. His sharp collar bones and those broad, masculine shoulders, toned arms flexing as long, gorgeous fingers brush down his chest and belly, over all that soft tanned skin, teasing through the line of dark hair leading from his belly button on down that Rhett finds himself dying to get his mouth on.

Link leans back on his elbows, pulls his legs up and spreads his knees. He’s never felt so exposed before, but knowing how bad Rhett wants him fills him with confidence and spurs him on, and he tentatively brings one hand down between his legs to lightly fondle himself before tracing his fingers further down to the cleft of his ass, still wet with lube from earlier. 

Rhett watches everything, every move like a man dying. Like this image is the last one that will be seared into his memory, the one he’ll carry with him when he goes and he wants it crisp and fresh in his mind. 

Watching Link’s hands moving where his own yearn to explore is agony, his hands aching with the need to touch, to feel all that skin beneath his palms and know _this is real_. 

He’s barely breathing as he stands, staring, following the slow sweep of Link’s broad hand as it dips low. He’s not imagining the shine on his skin. The proof that minutes ago Link had been fucking himself is there, obvious in the leftover lube slick on his ass and thighs more than is in the ease of what Link’s doing now, than in the way those deft fingers move against his own body. 

Link traces a slow circle around his slicked entrance, eyelids fluttering closed before he slips his middle finger inside. He gasps lightly at the lack of resistance, he’s still wet and stretched out and hypersensitive from playing with the vibrator not ten minutes before, but the added rush of knowing Rhett is watching him feels like electricity in his veins. It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced.

He fingers himself slowly, breathing steady, as he works one digit, wet with lube, in and out of his body. When he’s satisfied he slips a second finger in alongside the first and spreads his legs wider as he pushes them in deep and curls. He’s already opened up, thoroughly fucked out, but he wants to show Rhett exactly how he likes it, the way he takes care of himself late at night with just a single wall separating their two beds. 

“Jesus.” 

Rhett’s voice is hollow and awestruck, soft and low, almost reverent. He’s imagined this, god has he _ever_ imagined this, but his mind couldn’t produce an image like this. The years of fantasies pale in comparison to the reality of Link spread out on white sheets and working himself open, not for the first time tonight. 

Rhett’s hand moves to his aching cock, pressing with the heel of it for pressure and friction, desperate for relief. It’s not enough, nothing’s anywhere near enough, and it’s about to get a hell of a lot harder to bear. 

Link chances a glance at a shell-shocked Rhett, eyes fixed to the point where his fingers enter his body. The sight of Rhett’s undivided attention on him in the middle of such an intimate act is enough to draw a low, shaky moan out of him and he feels his entire body shudder with anticipation. He’s ready for Rhett to take him now, god knows he’s been ready for fucking _years_. Instead he fishes around the sheets for the pink vibrator, fully intending to give Rhett exactly what he’d asked for. 

“ _Oh_ ,” is all Rhett says, all he can manage to get out when he sees Link pull that toy from the mess of bedsheets beside him. His brain has completely malfunctioned, stuttered to a halt and he just stares at the thing in Link’s shaking hand and _reels_. 

When his mind comes back online it’s going a thousand directions all at once. Part of him wants to laugh because of course Link bought a bright pink toy if he was going to buy something. He briefly wonders if it was probably the cheapest thing he could find that’d do the trick. _Figures_. But there’s another, far larger part of him for which the very last reaction he could have is to laugh, because he’s imagining it. He’s overlaying all the times he’s heard Link through the walls with images of _this_ and he’s utterly flabbergasted that he’d never once considered this to be a possibility. 

Link brings the toy to his mouth, caught up in the moment and determined to play it up as much as possible. Rhett’s watching him like a starved man, ready to pounce and rend him limb from limb at any second, and Link wants to see just how far he can push things before Rhett cracks. He slips the silicone tip past his lips and lock seyes with Rhett as he proceeds to take as much of the toy into his mouth as possible. He bobs his head up and down once, twice, and licks a final wet stripe up the length of the vibrator with his tongue. That he can taste himself on the toy from earlier only turns him on even more, the filthy memory drawing another low moan out of his throat and filling the silence of the room.

Rhett can’t believe his eyes. He doesn’t need it spelled out for him to know just where that’s been as he watches him showing off with it now. It’s a targeted attack and it’s effective, hits him hard. He’s watching the man he’s known his whole life try to apparently swallow a dildo, playing it up like he’s fellating it and Rhett can’t help the jealous twist he feels wondering just where that came from. Has he ever tried this with someone else? Distantly, he realizes he’s more upset at the thought of Link messing around with another man than the is with the reality of his marriage. But that thought’s fleeting too, gone when he watches that broad tongue work over the length of the toy. He gives himself a squeeze and tries to bite back a hard moan.

Link can see Rhett fidgeting now so he turns around, crawls up on his hands and knees, spreads his legs and presents himself completely exposed to Rhett’s gaze. Rhett’s fingers bunch in the waistband of his sweats and push down, dragging fabric and fist over his aching cock as he watches Link fish the half empty bottle of lube out of the rumpled sheets and settle back down,looking back at him over his shoulder. 

“Ready?” he asks, uncapping the lube and pouring a generous amount onto the pink toy.

Rhett’s not ready, not remotely ready. But there’s no way on earth he’s saying anything but yes, nodding once, staring slack jacked at the slick and dripping toy in Link’s shining fingers, at the spread of those long thighs, the swell of his ass and the invitation of his entrance, already wet and beckoning before he even starts. 

Link reaches behind himself, lining the vibrator up with his entrance before pushing in gently. Despite still being prepared enough from his earlier session, the initial stretch still has him gasping as he pushes the toy all the way inside himself in one fluid stroke. He pauses like that, with the toy resting all the way inside and cranes his neck just enough to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror of the closet door. He can see Rhett behind him, an unbelievable reality after _so_ many nights spent fantasizing about this very scenario. 

Rhett’s not wholly aware that he’s not quiet, realizes belatedly that he’d let out a sound like a choked sob, his hand disappearing down the front of his sweats, curling around himself. God, if he’s not careful, he’s going to come in his pants, before he even has a chance to touch Link. It’s impossible, though, to think of anything else while he’s watching Link like this. Watches him fucking himself and watching them both in the mirror. Briefly, Rhett’s attention flicks there, too, and it’s not unlike sitting side by side with him on set making eye contact through the camera. 

“Link.” Rhett’s not sure what he’s asking for, more or less, to keep going or for permission to join him. He’s starting to rethink the request to see this, not sure it’s something he can handle right now, as keyed up as he already is. 

Link hums, smiling at Rhett’s response. It’s exactly what he was hoping for, his normally smug and confident best friend, always so sure of himself, now reduced to a babbling mess before Link’s shameless display. Touching himself through his sweatpants as Link fucks himself with the vibrator. If there was ever a lingering question whether Link was an exhibitionist, it’s erased in this instant. 

With a flick of his fingers Link switches the toy’s vibration on, dialing it up halfway to the highest setting. He chokes out a sob as it presses deep inside him, the curved tip brushing against his prostate. He’d come not long ago, he can’t get hard again yet, but the vibration inside him coupled with Rhett standing just feet away from him is stirring his arousal. He increases the pace of his strokes, pulling the toy nearly all the way out of his body before pushing it back inside, taking the entirety of it all the way up to the handle.

There’s a harsh answering groan behind Link, a sound Rhett can’t keep contained when the toy buzzes to life and he gets to witness Link’s reaction. He wants this caught on video, wants to be able to replay it at will and let his focus shift. He wants to watch the way his lithe little body takes the toy inside like it’s _easy_ , but he wants to watch the spread of his thighs, the arch of his back as greedily he gives himself more, long fingers slick with lube and shaking. 

Rhett’s squeezing himself with intention, trying to bring himself back down, desperate to keep from coming before he even lays a hand on Link. 

And Link feels good but, damn it, he wants Rhett’s hands on him, he _needs_ Rhett’s hands on him. He’d done enough fantasizing with a cold piece of silicone, now he wants the warmth of Rhett’s body, to feel his hands work him open, his heated breath on his neck. He’s desperate to feel the hot, slick push of Rhett’s cock inside him, filling him up and stretching him open in ways no toy could ever accomplish.

“ _Ohhhhh_ ,” he moans with each push of the vibrator inside him. “Rhett, I want you to touch me. Please.”

That’s all the permission, all the pleading Rhett needs. In an instant he moves close enough behind him that Link’s feet, dangling off the edge of the bed, brush against the fabric of his pants. His hand rests over Link’s, thumb dragging through the slip of lube there, wordlessly asking for permission to take the toy away. 

“Let me,” Rhett follows it with, feeling like he’s stuttering words in his eagerness. Like he’s talking around a tongue that’s too clumsy for language. When Link lets go he draws the toy away slow and easy, taking care not to hurt him. Maybe taking a little too _much_ care, letting the curved head of it drag and draw a whimper as he pulls it away and tosses it aside, careless to the fact that it’s still on and buzzing in the covers. 

_He could take him like this_. Bent over, hands and knees, he could take him. The possibility is dizzying, the proximity, the heady scent of sex and sweat in the air, all of it. There’s a second, this brief, overwhelming moment where he can’t think to get past where they are now. He’s so turned on he can’t think clearly. The hands on Link’s hips dig in tight enough to risk a bruise and he leans into him, pressing himself up against Link’s wet and ready ass, still clothed. He grinds against him, desperate for just a moment of _friction_ , but he wants this to be different. 

“Turn over,” Rhett growls, guiding Link over to his back, big hands on that slender waist, without letting him have the space to move under his own power. He shoves out of his sweats and moves, following Link down _finally_ and collides with him, kisses him hard. 

As soon as Rhett’s on top of him Link’s leaning up into the kiss, arching his back and wrapping his legs around Rhett’s hips to pull him flush against his bare skin. Having Rhett against him is everything he’d ever hoped for; his skin feels like it’s radiating heat directly into Link’s core. He feels like he could burst with the sensation of it all, the emotional overload combined with the raw physicality of having Rhett’s body covering every inch of him. Something so familiar experienced in such a completely new way is so exhilarating Link feels like he might pass out.

He ruts up against Rhett as they kiss, groaning at the slide of Rhett’s hard cock against his skin, the feel of it hot and heavy against his belly. He kisses Rhett open mouthed and sloppy, relishing in the taste of him and the feel of his beard rubbing against his skin. Link inhales the scent of him, sweaty and masculine and _Rhett_ , before running his hands up his shoulders and neck, tangling his fingers into the messy golden strands of his hair, pulling Rhett down deeper into the kiss. 

Link breaks the kiss to reach one hand down in between them, wrapping it around Rhett’s cock and squeezing, looking him in the eye and grinning as he slides the pad of his thumb through the gathering bead of dampness at the tip. Rhett’s breath comes hot over Link’s smiling face and he huffs out a half-laugh, catching sight of Link’s goddamn grin, but the moment quickly slips back to darker waters. Rhett damn near keens, hips bucking like they’ve got a mind of their own, like he’s practically out of control. His shoulders and eyebrows are knotted up tight with all this fucking tension he’s holding coiled up in his body. 

He shifts his weight to one arm and lets the other hand roam, brushing briefly past Link’s, broad palm resting heavy, rubbing between his legs, over his still mostly soft cock and lower. Link’s inner thighs are messy with lube and when thick fingers brush past his entrance, he’s so obscenely slick that Rhett can’t help but sink a finger in up to the knuckle. 

“You’re so fucking wet…” His voice is thick with adoration. Wet and _tight_ , as if he hadn’t just lay there fingering himself, as if he hadn’t just been fucking himself with that pink toy. It feels like it doesn’t matter just how much he’d worked himself open, he’s still tight as a goddamn vice.

“Can- can I fuck you?” his nose is pressed to Link’s neck, breath hot on his skin, beard tickling with every move. It’s a question that doesn’t need to be asked because the answer is obvious, but he asks anyway because he needs to hear it. He needs to hear Link say _yes_ , or at least hear how his voice breaks when he tries to.

The question hits Link like a ton of bricks, knocks the air straight out of his chest. It’s the question he’d been fantasizing about for years, and now that he’s heard it he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Rhett had so unceremoniously slipped a finger inside him just seconds ago and now he was asking with the utmost reverence for his permission to fuck him. Link’s head is spinning with how fast things are moving.

He breathes a drawn out “ _Yes_ ,” into the space above Rhett’s head, unable to articulate anything more than a quiet affirmation, following it up with an arch of his back, tipping his head back and presenting the full expanse of his neck to Rhett’s mouth. 

It’s fucking intoxicating to hear and feel how affected Link is, the way he’s reduced to _this_. 

“I want you to fuck me, Rhett,” he chokes out, pulling Rhett flush to his body with long legs wrapped around his hips, encouraging Rhett’s finger deeper inside him. The sensation of being fingered by another person is wholly new, it’s not as big as the toy he’d been using but it’s like he’s on fire with the delicious slide of Rhett working inside him. The drag of Rhett’s finger combined with the wetness between his legs has him growing hard again, and he moves to line Rhett’s cock up with his, squirming at the feeling of their cocks sliding smooth and silky together between their bellies. 

One finger isn’t going to become two. It’s hardly necessary at this point after what Link has already done. It was just the need to touch, the draw to get his hands on him, to feel him from the inside. Rhett tried to pull away when Link answered, made it clear as crystal that he wanted this, but Link doesn’t let him. Those long legs catch and hold him tight, close, and he can’t get away, but he’s too lost to care. 

“I’m afraid I’m… m’gonna come right away,” Rhett admits against the smaller man’s damp skin, cheeks are ruddy pink and splotchy down his neck with how aroused he is, how keyed up and nervous. He wants this to be good, wants it to be perfect, but it’s destined _not _to be. Link’s fucked out already and Rhett’s on a hair trigger, he’s a live wire, like every nerve is raw and exposed, like just the fucking _thought_ of sinking into his tight little ass might catch his skin and bones on fire. __

__

Rhett manages his hand away, falls into step with Link’s squirming, the way he moves against him with their bodies fitted together in a rough and sweat-slick pantomime of fucking. Rhett reaches down between them and guides himself lower, resting some of his weight against Link’s body as he works to line himself up, as the blunt head of his cock drags slick against his entrance, catches and misses, and tries again. And this time, starts to sink in.

__Link leans up and licks his way across Rhett’s lips, smirking before grinding himself down onto the blunt tip of Rhett’s cock. “Come inside me then,” he challenges, giving Rhett a toothy grin before leaning in to bite at Rhett’s lower lip._ _

__Rhett’s not sure why he’s surprised that Link’s talk gets dirty, but he is. It’s not like he hadn’t heard Link screaming to be fucked through the wall between their hotel rooms, to be filled. And it’s not like what they’re doing isn’t enough of a rush, the way Link moves against him, the way those hips grind as he leads with his body weight. There’s still a jolt to hear his best friend breathe those filthy words between them._ _

__The slide of Rhett inside him is perfect. He’s hot and thick and fills him up in ways he’d never imagined possible. He’d fucked himself with his own fingers and the toy twice in the span of an hour, leaving him wet and fucked out, but the stretch he feels as Rhett pushes his way inside his body leaves him gasping for air. It’s tight and hot and wet and _so deep_ and he feels like the further Rhett slides inside him the less he’s able to think straight. _ _

__Rhett barely has a chance to catch his breath, to get used to the feeling of being inside him. He’s not a fucking virgin, but Christ if it doesn’t feel like he is. As soon as Rhett is seated in him, Link pushes gently at his chest before raising himself up on his elbows just enough to gaze down to the space between them, eyes fixed on the point where their bodies connect. The sight of Rhett disappearing inside him is dizzying, obscene yet sensual; this is the closest they’d ever been in their thirty-three years together and the thought shakes Link to his core. He runs a hand down Rhett’s chest, skimming over his belly, earning a visible shiver from the taller man, and down to where he’s sunk into him. Fingertips caressing the point where Rhett’s cock disappears into his wet hole, stretched tight and slick around the girth of him._ _

__

__“Jesus…” The word comes soft like it’s hard to hold enough air to speak. Rhett can feel Link’s hand between them, his fingers brushing where they’re joined so it’s hard to know just where the one ends and the other begins. Rhett wants to move _he wants to move_ , but he also doesn’t trust himself. He needs a fucking minute to be sure that he won’t come apart at the seams with the first thrust, but it’s not a minute he’s going to get. He can’t resist moving. It starts slow, a rock of his hips to give those curious fingers something to feel. _ _

__“You feel so good,” Rhett’s lips and beard brush Link’s neck as he speaks, starts to forget himself and move faster but, afraid of everything coming to a crashing halt, tries to remember, to slow again, stutters to a near-halt with a hard groan. Aroused as he is he can’t find a rhythm, can’t settle into it, because fast feels dangerous and slow is still _too much_. “So… fucking good…”_ _

__Link loves that he’s driving Rhett so crazy that he’s afraid to move but _fuck_ does he want Rhett to let loose on him. Hold him down, pound him into the mattress, fuck him straight through that goddamn headboard. He wants to _scream_. To wake the rest of the neighbors up, to let the entire world know that he and Rhett are fucking like filthy animals and _loving it_._ _

__“C’mon then, fuck me Rhett,” he gasps. “Fuck me nice and good and deep like you want to.” Link’s grinding down on him now, working his tight body onto Rhett’s cock, squirming and squeezing on him from the inside. Doing everything in his power to get Rhett to let go and fuck him stupid._ _

__“I want you to fuck me in all the ways you’d been dreaming about. Show me exactly what you’ve been doing to me in that head of yours, Rhett.” Link’s babbling now, words running together, dizzy with the power his filthy mouth has over Rhett. He’s never seen him this way, so utterly wound up, cautious and unsure, but he can feel Rhett’s on the precipice of something. He’d already caved to him once tonight, and Link’s determined to push and prod and poke until Rhett’s ready to give him even more._ _

__Every word Link says chips away at what’s holding him back, the fear that if he lets go then this is going to be over practically before it started. But it seems Link’s hell bent on breaking him, between the filthy things he says and the way he moves beneath him. And it’s true, he’s dreamed about this moment, a jumble of subconscious want but also with intention, lucid dreams he’d moved through with an aim for getting what he wants. He’s fantasized about finally getting his hands on him so often and for so many years that having the chance feels overwhelming, moreso with Link making demands. He’s not sure why he’s surprised to find that Link knows just how to push his buttons in this situation. After all, they both know just exactly how to get under the other’s skin. It’s only natural it should be the same when they come together like this._ _

__Rhett moves against him, into him _hard_ , satisfied to see and feel the bed shake with the force of it. _ _

__“You want this?” Rhett manages to ask, as if it’s even a question. As if he really needs to hear Link answer to know that getting fucked hard is what it is he’s after._ _

__“Yeah,” is all he can manage. The hard slam of Rhett inside him rips a high-pitched whine out of Link’s mouth, jaw hanging open at the raw feel of Rhett sinking impossibly deep inside him. Link leans up to kiss at Rhett’s lips, licking and biting his way inside his mouth before reaching down and grabbing the backs of his own thighs and pulling them open, spreading his legs wide._ _

__“Yeah?” Rhett echoes, needing to push back against Link’s babbling demands. He shifts how he’s holding himself up so he can move better, rail into him harder. The way the length of their bodies and limbs don’t quite line up is a benefit here because it means Rhett can be everywhere at once, tall enough that he can command Link’s full attention as he lets go in the savage pace they’re settling into together. Rhett wants Link so far gone that talking’s off the table, wants him capable of barely more than wordless shouts and gasps for air._ _

__Link’s body rocks with Rhett’s movements, high pitched keens and low moans punctuating each of Rhett’s frantic thrusts. This is what he’d wanted, everything he’d imagined fucking Rhett would be like. It’s like his body was made to have Rhett inside it, they fit so perfectly together. The way Rhett’s skin drags over his now fully hard cock, pressed deliciously between their sweat-slicked bodies and the bone-deep satisfaction of feeling _so full_._ _

__The faster and harder Rhett pounds into him the more Link loses control of himself, back arched and neck exposed, mouthing _yesyesyes_ in time with every thrust. Link can’t possibly keep himself still, hands scrambling all over Rhett’s body, pulls him closer, drags blunt nails down his back and smooths his palms across his chest, cards his fingers through wavy blonde hair and _tugs_. Somewhere distantly Link registers the angry creaking of the bedframe and laughs, high pitched giggles dissolving into low moans as the blunt, fat tip of Rhett’s cock drags across his prostate. Link’s giggle pulls a grin from Rhett, brief and fleeting, gone in a flash, replaced by a low groan._ _

__Link’s entire body bounces along with each of Rhett’s thrusts, the sound of slick skin slapping against skin playing against Link’s high-pitched cries and Rhett’s low groans. Link hardly realizes his glasses are askew, fucked off of his face with the intensity of their fucking. Rhett fumbles for Link’s glasses and grabs hold of them, careless of fingerprints on lenses, just with a mind to get them off and safe from the havoc they’re wreaking on each other. In another situation, he might put them on his own face, but nowhere’s safe between them now, and the glasses get tossed aside._ _

__It’s a fucking miracle Rhett hasn’t come yet, that he hadn’t the second he sank into Link’s tight, hot body. It’s intoxicating to watch him. Rhett’s not surprised to find him so expressive in bed, throwing himself headlong into the experience, so full of sound and motion. Rhett’s fixated on the long line of his neck, the bump of his goozle moving temptingly close enough to taste. So he does, lets his pointy little tongue flick out over it and chases it with a kiss. Maybe later he’ll think back on the move as a little weird, but right now weird isn’t a word that exists between them. Need is all there is, and the opportunity to chase it._ _

__Rhett’s staccato groans are coming hot against Link’s exposed neck, his bony shoulder blade. Link touching him doesn’t bother him -- on the contrary, the sharp drag of nails down his back is more than welcome -- so he’s not sure just _why_ he grabs for one of Link’s hands the first opportunity he gets, but he does. Grabs hold and presses it down to the bed beneath his own, fingers stroking up from his wrist until their palms slide together, until their fingers lace tight._ _

__Link squeezes as soon as their fingers join together, loving the feel of Rhett’s big hand enveloping his own. “Mmmmm yeah,” he croons. “Hold me down and fuck me, baby. Just like that.”_ _

__It’s Link’s reaction to that move that makes him grab the other hand, fumbling around for it and grabbing hold roughly when he finds it, slamming it down beside Link’s head, holding him pinned._ _

__He’s practically screaming out in time with Rhett’s thrusts, strings of shouts and curses and “ _fuck me, Rhett_ ” filling the room. He wants to reach down and jerk himself off, but without the use of his hands he does his best to rut his hips up, chasing the drag of his cock against Rhett’s belly in between thrusts. He can come like this, he thinks, with Rhett inside him and his hands pinned above his head, held down and fucked into oblivion._ _

__“Yeah.” Rhett’s growling, his beard tickling Link’s neck. “ _Yeah_ ,” the word comes again and again like acknowledgement or encouragement, again enough that it starts to lose meaning as a word, becomes little more than a sound, a rallying cry. “You can take it… _take it_ ,” the roll of his hips become a snap that’s going to leave him sore and sorry later, harder and faster, the pace he sets punishing and desperate._ _

__Rhett may have him physically pinned down, but even through the hazy euphoria of being relentlessly fucked into the mattress, Link can’t relinquish complete control of the situation. So he looks up, head swimming and blue eyes boring deep into Rhett’s, swipes his tongue across his bottom lip before drawing it between his teeth.“I want… _Oohhh_ ,” he trails off in a groan and starts up again, brain unable to catch up with the rest of his body. “Come inside me, Rhett,” he gasps, barely managing to spit the words out, pulling in lungfuls of air in between grunts and groans. “I wanna feel it. _Inside me_.”_ _

__“Oh fuck.” Rhett’s reeling, rocked by the reality of Link beneath him and everywhere, tight and squirming and _saying these things_. God, the things he’s saying. Everything starts to unravel as sure as if Link had found the thread that held him all together and pulled and kept on pulling. Rhett’s trying hard to hold on to what it was Link said he wanted, to tell him how it feels as he comes inside him, but the closer he gets the more lost he is. Thoughts are harder to hold onto, words slipping away from him, his mind a wash of sensation and spark all formless, mindless, beyond language. What was it Link wanted? He’d said something, asked for something. The details feel like sand sifting through his fingers and he knows he’s lost something but he can’t for the life of him begin to figure out what. _ _

__When he comes it hits him so hard he can’t catch his breath, can’t suck in air at all. He isn’t aware that it’s because he’s come unglued, because he’s crying out, loud, a harsh groan torn from his throat at the shock of release. It’s too much, _too much_ and he couldn’t begin to tell Link how he feels now if he tried, not capable of words. He’s fucking him through it, or trying to, not steadily or in rhythm but loose and wild and with moments of forgetting himself and sinking in deep and just grinding, like he’s on some single minded mission to crawl under his skin. He wants to get Link there with him, wants him to scream his goddamn head off, wants him to wake the whole fucking hotel, wants him to come so hard he practically turns inside out. _ _

__The feeling of Rhett’s orgasm slams through Link, they’re connected so deep. He can feel it inside him, warm and wet and _fuck_ Rhett is still thrusting into him. Fucking him through his own orgasm. Link can feel he’s close too, like all the air in his lungs is used up, he feels his toes tingling, curling with the intensity and pleasure of having Rhett spill so utterly deep inside him._ _

__Link is becoming increasingly desperate with Rhett’s stuttering pace. He doesn’t know what to do; he wants to get off so fucking bad that he’s _shaking_ with it. He reaches one wobbly hand down between them and grasps himself, jerking himself off in time to Rhett’s faltering thrusts, talking himself to his own orgasm with a steady stream of _oohhhh_ and _yessss_ and _so close_ , mind absolutely gone as he works himself closer and closer. _ _

__“Oh shit, yeah,” Rhett’s accent is thick in the groan of those words when he feels Link’s hand move between them, feels his cock and the backs of his fingers bumping up against his belly as he moves, frantically working himself off. It’s hard to keep on moving, keep on thrusting into Link, a mix of being too sensitive to handle more and of getting distracted watching Link. He’s known his best friend was gorgeous for years, for fucking decades, but he’s never seen him like this, spread out and shaking with need as he chases his orgasm, cussing under his breath._ _

__Rhett slips out and settles back with a mind to watch him, maybe offer filthy commentary, when his attention is drawn down between his spread thighs, watches how the come starts to leak out of him. What happens next isn’t even a conscious thought, not something he’d planned to do, just happens. Rhett rubs his fingers through the creamy mess between his thighs, smears it around and watches Link’s face, the desperation and the shock of how sensitive he is, how fucking desperately close he is to coming there on his face and sinks three fingers in without a second thought._ _

__The frustration of having Rhett pull out of him is replaced by the elation of feeling three of Rhett’s thick fingers suddenly work their way inside him with ease. He offers a long, shuddering moan in response as he feels full once again, the stretch of Rhett’s fingers working inside him, curling and pressing against his sensitive, overstimulated prostate. He knows he’s close, and he works himself harder, spreads his legs wider, arches his back and invites Rhett to press in deep, to feel the dripping, hot mess he’s made inside him._ _

__Link’s crying out again, high pitched keens and rumbling moans coming between a steady stream of curse words and shouts of Rhett’s name. It’s as much for him as it is for Rhett, loving the sound of his own voice uttering filthy words and begging to be fucked. It’s the sharp, angry pounding he hears from the other side of the wall across the room that pushes him that final fraction of an inch over the edge. He’s coming hard, muscles flexing as he comes in spurts so powerful that they land across his chest in streaks, the last of which shoots up his neck and over his quivering bottom lip._ _

__“Oh _Jesus_ ,” Rhett’s voice is low and hushed as though they haven’t just made the biggest goddamn racket for the last who knows how long. Like the people in the room next door aren’t so fed up with them they’ve resorted on pounding on the wall to get the message across. Link’s an absolute mess, he’s utterly filthy with their come and lube and his _sweat_. _ _

__Rhett leans down without hesitation and catches Link’s mouth in a kiss before shifting focus, tongue sweeping out over that plush lower lip, chasing the spurt of come that strayed that far, tasting Link on his own lips. He can’t quite believe that what just happened had really happened, regardless of the fact that he’d just experienced it, that he was here with Link, naked and sticky in his hotel bed. It feels surreal, like at any moment he’ll snap awake and realize he’d been dreaming._ _

__Rhett rubs one broad hand up Link’s chest, slick with the mess they’d made, their come mingling as he rubs up Link’s belly and chest, almost more to reassure himself that Link was real, that _this_ was real than for anything else. He needs to surface for air faster than he might normally have, breathless still from fucking him, from coming, from watching him come unglued. In the moment he breaks away he catches Link’s gaze from too-close, his two eyes blurring, swimming into one as close as their faces are, and something about that and the look on Link’s face and the reality of the situation they’re in has him laughing, high and more than a little giddy. _ _

__Link was still catching his breath when Rhett was caught up in that fit of laughter. He feels it all through him, the force of his laughter shaking through him with Rhett atop him, forehead to forehead. He can’t help but laugh along, breathless and sweaty, pinned naked beneath his best friend of nearly 35 years in his hotel bed. Link chances a glance into the mirror and he’s struck dead in the chest with what he sees. The both of them naked and tangled up in each other, giggling and clinging together, looking happier than they had in years._ _

__Link raises his hands from between them, still sticky with sweat and lube and come, and brings them to either side of Rhett’s face, thumbs stroking his beard and fingers carding through the soft hair at his temples as he guides Rhett in for a deep kiss. He tilts his head and hums into the kiss, trying with everything he has to reassure Rhett that this is ok. Better than ok. It’s everything he’d ever wanted._ _

__This doesn’t feel like something to worry over, not with Link’s easy laughter and how quickly he’d pulled him in for a kiss, but telling himself not to worry is one thing and managing not to is another thing entirely. He bumps his nose into Link’s as he parts from the kiss but stays close, because somehow it feels easier if he stays so close he can hardly see Link for the blur. Things always seem like they’re easier when the two of them are so close they blot out the notion of personal space. It’s like it hardly registers that saying something like he’s planning to say while steadfastly staying _this close_ is more vulnerable, because the press of Link’s body into his has always made him feel safe, made him brave. _ _

__“...this, uh…” Rhett swallows thickly, licking his lips so close to Link’s that his beard brushes up on his chin. “...this wasn’t just, uh…this wasn’t just, uh… a one off, right? Cause I really wanna do this again…”_ _

__Link chokes immediately, snorting in Rhett’s face before leaning his head back, huge guffaws wracking his slim body. He laughs himself into tears, wiping his eyes before a stunned Rhett before catching his breath and coming back down, trying to steady his voice before speaking. He hadn’t meant to laugh in Rhett’s face, not really, but the question struck him. Link had been dreaming about this moment for literal decades, and here _Rhett_ was, pleading with him in a tone that suggested Link actually might not want this._ _

__“Rhett…” he chuckles, bringing his hands to Rhett’s face once again. “I’m,” he starts and then stops, “you are such a dork,” he finishes, looking deep into Rhett’s eyes, brows knit together in sympathy, before kissing him once more. “ _Yes_. God yes.” Another kiss, and then “I want this. As often as possible,” he finishes, waggling his eyebrows and grinning in between a rapid succession of kisses. _ _

__“Jerk,” Rhett chuckles good-naturedly after Link manages to spit his answer out. There’d been a couple of seconds there where he’d been afraid that Link was laughing _at him_ , irrational and stupid as it seems now. And really it doesn’t make sense to imagine that this was something Link only wanted the one time, or a mistake he’d made to agree to it at all, given that Rhett knows that Link’s been fucking himself and thinking of him for a long time. It’s just all still too new to process, all of it happened so fast that he couldn’t help but needing to check and see, test this before he leans on it with too much weight…. even if it’s way, way too late for that. _ _

__“...you scared the crap outta me for a second there,” he manages between Link’s stupid, rapid kisses, and the two of them quickly get out of sync. Rhett tries to fix that, tries to find it again but he fails and gives up, instead just taking over with a deeper kiss that derails that back and forth rapid-kissing game Link’s playing at with a low, rumbling hum._ _

__Link loves kissing Rhett, doesn’t think he’ll ever be over the feeling of having his lips on his own, the unfamiliar feel of a very familiar beard prickling at his face, reminding him just who it is he’s tasting. He wants to lie there kissing Rhett for the rest of the night, until the sun comes up, stay in bed with him all day and miss their flight home. Instead he reaches up and pulls Rhett down to his chest, curling in on him and letting his eyes flutter closed wrapped in Rhett’s warm embrace._ _

__They’re sticky and disgusting, the bed is a mess, their neighbors are pissed, and Rhett’s still locked out of his hotel room, but for now Link can’t bring himself to care. He’s exhausted, having come twice that night, now pinned beneath the warm weight of Rhett’s body he’s ready to doze off, safe in his bed wrapped up in his best friend, more than happy to let tomorrow’s Link deal with whatever fallout there may be. “Bedtime,” he murmurs into the mess of Rhett’s hair brushing against his lips._ _

__Of _course_ Link’s ready to fall asleep immediately. Rhett just rolls his eyes as he realizes that this is something he’s going to have to deal with in this new development between them. Link’s ease of falling asleep has always been annoying when he wished _he_ could fall asleep that fast, but it’s taken on a new context now when Rhett would like to lay awake talking to him a little longer. _ _

__A soft vibration interrupts them -- not the toy (that’s run out of charge and died in the sheets) but Link’s phone on the nightstand. Rhett doesn’t want to move to let Link pick it up, and figures maybe they could ignore it. That stops being a possibility when another buzz comes through, and another in rapid succession._ _

__Rather than move enough that Link could swipe for it, Rhett stretches up and snags it from the nightstand, catching sight of the messages rolling in on the notif page. They’re all from Stevie._ _

___‘Judging by the fact that Rhett didn't answer his texts, safe to say he forgot his phone in his room…’_  
_‘So, hey, congrats!’  
_ _‘But next time maybe dial it back a notch… apparently your neighbors called the desk to complain. I’m gonna have to send a fruit basket or something.’_

__“Oh, gosh, look,” Rhett says, tipping the screen so Link can see._ _

__Link glances at the screen, takes a moment to process what he sees and falls silent. Rhett’s worried that Link is going to freak out once it clicks, once he realizes just how obvious they’d been. But that doesn’t happen._ _

__The giggles come softly at first, sleepy and pressed into Rhett’s chest, until his whole body is shuddering with it. He looks up at Rhett with tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and offers a hoarse, “Whoops?” before leaning back into Rhett’s chest, kissing up his neck and whispering into his ear, “Well maybe next time you’re just gonna have to get somethin’ in my mouth to keep me quiet.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for liking, commenting, and subscribing! :)
> 
> You know what time it is. >:)


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